Stages of Grief
by Martienne
Summary: The powers that be denied that any relationship between them had ever existed. How could Wash stand for that? Even after everything that had happened, he would mourn South's memory. Oneshot. Birthday present for Casa.


**A/N: A little birthday present for Casa. Inspired by…you-know-what.**

My heart was in my throat as I heard him deny it—him of all people—he had created this program, damn it, and even though fraternization had been forbidden the entire time, everyone knew how much she had meant to me. Still, this certainly wasn't the time or place to protest the facts of the situation. It wasn't even one of the more important parts of his statement to the Oversight Subcommittee. Much more egregious in his and their eyes, of course, was the fact that I had destroyed so much equipment and technology with the EMP at the end of my standoff with the Meta. So much for evidence.

I had lost so many friends to the breakdown of the Project. I couldn't assign myself the role in my mind of her killer, unless I kept Agent South as separate from who she had been before, and I couldn't think of that last fight unless I kept the power-hungry monster known as the Meta separate from my friend, Agent Maine. It didn't really make sense, but that was the only way I could keep myself from breaking down right now. I would sift through the implications of what I had done later, in the cold comfort of an undeserved jail cell. That was when I would break down and mourn for them—not for their loss but for what might have been.

"Would you like to make a statement, Agent Washington?"

I turned my head in his direction as the Chairman asked the question. _Would I like to make a statement?_ The question made me so angry I had to concentrate on not snapping out my response. "Sir, I would like to make a statement if I could do so privately," I replied in a carefully even tone. No way did I want the Director to know about my ace in the hole in the fight to have him incarcerated. He was the one deserving of punishment, not me, and as far as he knew Epsilon had been destroyed along with everything in else in the facility.

The Chairman contemplated this for a moment, and then rose and gestured to the guards who were flanking me to lead me to his office. We followed him and I stood before the desk as the guards exited and waited on the other side of the door.

"So, I suppose you have sensitive information that you did not want Dr. Church to overhear, hmm?" the Chairman asked as he sat down in his chair and tented his fingers. Everything about his attitude and aspect were incredibly condescending, but I couldn't really tell if it was aimed toward me in particular or if it was an integral part of his personality. He had been acting the same way in the Subcommittee chambers, so I was inclined to believe the latter.

"I do," I replied. "What the Director told you about my confrontation with the Meta is true. I am responsible for the destruction of the Alpha AI in the EMP blast that followed. What he does not know is that I secured an important piece of evidence in the preparations for that confrontation."

"Evidence?" The Chairman tapped his forefingers together and raised an eyebrow. "What sort of evidence is that?"

"The evidence that proves how the Director got the supplemental AIs."

The Chairman gave me a withering, condescending little smile. "We have that evidence already. We seized and copied the pertinent records from the Project before you ever got into the facility."

"I doubt you have anything compelling," I asserted. This was one of the bits of knowledge I had acquired from Epsilon's memories. The Director was very careful in keeping the records in a way that separated cause and effect, all listed in a type of notation that was more of a barely intelligible code language to the uninitiated. "I think that a jury will find the evidence confusing and unconvincing. It would be different if you had the power to court-martial him, but do you really think you can convince a civilian jury with the unclear records you have?"

The Chairman folded his arms. "What do you know of the state of the records?"

"You know what he did to the Alpha. What you don't know is the Alpha would have been worthless as evidence. He had no memory of what had happened to him. In fact, his memories were completely contained in the fragment known as Epsilon."

Now I had his attention. "Epsilon… _Your_ fragment." He sat forward. "That is why you have intimate knowledge of the records, and that is how you were able to break into the computer systems and initiate the failsafe. Of course!" He shook his head with a sardonic chuckle. "I should have known that the Director's testimony was full of half-truths. Are there any other revelations you can make for me here in this session, Agent Washington?"

I swallowed hard. "Just one. But that is something of a more…personal nature." Her face swam before my eyes for an instant. She was laughing, bent against me to press the side of her face into my shoulder as my arm wrapped around her. A long-ago memory, a joy in my life that I would never regain.

"Do tell," the Chairman prompted, sitting back in his chair.

I began speaking reluctantly, but forced myself to sound detached and even. "I did not kill Agent South Dakota out of malicious intent. In fact, she and I had been…close, in the past." I cleared my throat at this point to keep a lump from forming inside it. "At some point after my implantation she became power-hungry and jealous. During the execution of this mission she proved that she was willing to cause me bodily harm in order to obtain an AI for herself. When I encountered her for the second time, I was forced to assume that her motives would lead us to another potential confrontation. I had to weigh the prospect of failing at my mission, perhaps even dying at her hand, against the consequences of the actions I ended up taking."

The Chairman nodded. "Understood." He turned toward his computer terminal then, making some notes into a lengthy file with the word 'CLASSIFIED' flashing at the top. "And how are we to obtain this Epsilon AI?"

"It is in the care of a group of simulation soldiers. Unfortunately the main caretaker is under the designation of the Blue side, and the records for the Blues were, uh, damaged during our mission. So I don't know that you will be able to locate the caretaker until he turns in the storage unit."

The Chairman's affect suddenly became one of great irritation. "You entrusted the Epsilon unit to an unvetted, unknown simulation soldier with instructions to turn the unit in as evidence with no way of tracking or verifying your claim?"

Once again I was forced to remain as calm as possible as I stood erect before the desk. "Yes, sir. Under the circumstances I felt I had no choice."

The Chairman stood and approached me, walking around his desk. "Unfortunately, at this point you will have to wait until we acquire the Epsilon unit in order for any of the statement you have given to me today to be found credible."

"Understood, sir." I remained in place, keeping my face stoically blank as he opened the office door and the guards returned to their flanking position.

After this the meeting of the Subcommittee was officially over and I was returned to my holding cell. I lay back on the bunk with my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. I had barely slept in weeks because every time I closed my eyes I could see her. Until now, I would open my eyes again as soon as her image tried to present itself to me. But this time, I kept my eyes closed. I had not had time to process the guilt and pain of what had happened. Nor had I had time to grieve what I had lost—not just one friend, but many; but she was the one who mattered most to me. I would do anything now to make things turn out differently than they had.

But of course, there was no way for that to happen. All I could do now is whisper into the darkness, my voice raspy as I spoke, and what I addressed was nothing more than a remnant of a recollection, just like the broken fragment that had lived in my head not so terribly long ago. I wasn't speaking to the person she had been at the end, but the person she had been when I had loved her and she had quite possibly loved me back.

"I'm so sorry, Cassie. I love you."


End file.
